The Girls Way or The Hard Way
by freckles0002
Summary: Freckles flees from here home and right into the territroy of the most feared newsie in New York. YES! This is basicly the same story as before but I thought I should re-post it since the plot will now be very different. WOOHOO!
1. Opening

THE GIRLS WAY or THE HARD WAY   
  
By. Freckles McLean: Freckles0002htmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: They're not mine I swear! If you see a name and don't recognize it from the movie then it came out of my little head.   
  
Author's Note: To all of you who have been wonderfully patient with me I give you a big thumbs up and a thank you.   
  
Well this is it. The story has been through the gutter and back but it is now rewritten and ready to go. This story takes place after the strike and if you've read this story before you may recognize some of the plot line and most of the characters (some were just to good to waste)  
  
And with all of that said - welcome! Please send me a review to let me know what you think (you're not going to make me beg, are you??) and enjoy!  
  
Brief Description: Girl newsies vs. boy newsies and all the fun that entails.  
  
Rating: R for violence and language. Mild Nudity (yeah, you wish!) and all of the Action/Adventure, Drama that you can handle - and perhaps a touch of Comedy and Romance if you ask nicely.   
  
So in the words of Monty Python- and now for something completely different   
  
The Girls Way or The HARD WAY  
  
It was the time a day when the world would lay on the brink between blissful sleep and the hum of awakening. Not even the birds were up to disturb the world with their song, as if they to had decided to dream a few minutes longer. It was early, just before dawn. It was on this dawn that five pairs of feet dared to disturb the morning's peace. As they past they received dirty looks from stray cats and street rats that had been disturbed back into the reality of day by the small gang. The five walked as one through the morning mist whispering around their legs as they made their way toward the water. The paused at a street corner and the leader even though the street was completely deserted looked both ways before leading her companions across. She walked tall and strong and many people, including those who walked beside her at this moment, would describe her as fearless.   
  
On the inside, where she was normally cold and solid, she was shaking. She was Freckles McLean. Leader of the Staten Island girl newsies and she was scared.   
  
Freckles could feel her five officers with her. They were strong, hardcore, and even though they each had their own specialty, it was of little comfort to Freckles. The four with her were the most skilled and competent at what they did and together they ran a smooth operation, which was the only one of it's kind in New York. She mentally went over their number status and rank in her head hoping for it's usual ability to calm her.  
  
Officer rank Five was Miriam Johnson a.k.a. "Rabbit". She was the motherly type, she made sure no one was starving and all were well clothed. Everyone needs a figure of authority that they can get some compassion from and Rabbit was the shoulder to cry on. Freckles couldn't stand whinny little girls, newsie or not, and Miriam kept them out of her face.  
  
Officer rank Four is Brittany MacKarter A.k.a. "Giggles". She's the youngest Officer and took charge of the business side to being newsie. When they receive a new girl, Giggles showed them where to, and more importantly where not to go. She taught them how to lie or "improve" headlines and collected the their house contribution. Staten Island didn't consider providing housing for female newsie a priority so a beat down old storage building was where Freckles called home. The pipes would freeze in the winter and the smell of rotting old wood would consume the house in the summer, but it kept most of the rain out and blocked the wind so it was good enough for the Staten Island girls.   
  
Officer rank Three was Briane McKinley, A.k.a. "Captain". She was in charge of defense. If Rabbit were the good cop Captain would be the bad cop. Captain was the hard type, the kind to kick you when you're down. Her methods worked on the strong and the weak learned how to stay out of her way or run really fast. Two important skills for a girl newsie. Captain was good at weeding out the weak and mediocre and finding the best, the girls who would get right back up after falling, would thrive at being screamed and pushed at for hours to run faster, punch harder and block quicker. Freckles, like any good leader, needed her informants and those who survived Captains training became Runners. They were called runners because they would sneak in, get their info, and run like hell.   
  
Officer rank Two was Alison Monroe A.k.a. "Woodchuck." She is Freckles's Lieutenant and most trusted advisor. If Freckles would ever dare to call someone a friend, Chucks, as she affectionately called her, would be it. No one had a head for politics or strategy like Chucks. She could outline the underlying factor in any attack on the gang. The only reason the Staten Island girls had survived and prospered in a man's profession was because of Chuck's planning. The girls could be violent but never senselessly, as newsie boys were prone to be.   
  
With Chuck's as her brain, Giggles, her instinct, Captain, her fist, and Rabbit, her heart Freckles had not only broken in to the Newsie world she had been profiting off it. Even though she would never admit it, without her officers she would not exist. Which is why she needed them now more than ever.   
  
They couldn't stay in South Beach any more. The risks had finally grown to high, to the gang and to Freckles sanity. She could not wake up one more morning knowing that she would find one of her girls dead, floating in the bay.   
  
It was the concern for the girls and their own health of mind that lured these officers to take the steps of their current journey. For why else, would girl newsies, the target of hate for every newsie in New York, be heading to the one borough that brought most men to their knees. Why else, would Freckles McLean have business with the beast of Brooklyn himself. 


	2. The meeting

Dawn was here. The sun had not yet decided to put in an appearance but the smell of its intense heat burning away what remained of night's solitude was evident to all. The first bridge now behind them, they continued their silent trek to a frightening goal. Freckles changed her mind a thousand times with each step she took. She wasn't use to this mind numbing fear that wouldn't release her. Chuck's said it was because of stress.   
  
'Stress! Why should I be stressed! I've only woken up to 12 different dead bodies in the past month.'  
  
"Freckles?" The sound of her name being spoken made her jump out of her ill-fated train of thought.  
  
"Hmm?" Freckles had a trade mark way of talking without actually saying a word. Quite amusing in a 'paranoid, never can say to much if you never say anything' sort of way.   
  
"How much further?" Freckles met Rabbit's eyes and gave her a look that told her to stop asking stupid questions.  
  
"Only a couple more blocks Rabbit " answered Woodchuck.  
  
"We've been walking forever!" Giggles whined. Freckles had to constantly remind herself that Giggles was extremely good at what she did and there was a logical reason why she kept her around. She knew that if she did if fact go with her gut and kill the whiner that there would be a whole population of whiners waiting for her at home and not even Rabbit would be able to control them. Freckles mentally cringed at the thought,  
  
"It's only three miles from the Bay to da docks where Spot is," Captain sighed impatiently unknowingly thinking along the same lines as Freckles accept she decided to dwell on the creativity that would go into Giggles death.   
  
"Well... It feels like forever," said Giggles.  
  
Eyes flashing Freckles snapped at the silly girl, "Are you in a hurry to see Spot Conlon?" In the corner of her eye she saw Chucks place a restraining hand on Captain's shoulder, who was ready to lunge.  
  
"No....but it doesn't mean I like walking," Giggles, as usual, was completely oblivious to how close to an ass kicking she was.  
  
"Some of our newsies have to walk this far and more every day just to sell twenty paps, so be grateful for the experience of only having to do it once," Rabbit lectured.  
  
"Don't preach ta me right now I'm too tired, aright?" Giggles accented her statement with a dramatic sigh and stretch.  
  
"Tuff up Giggles, we've only been walking for 40 minutes," Chucks informed.  
  
"Hey, look ova deyah! It's da Brooklyn Bridge!" Rabbit pointed out excitedly.  
  
"Hey, look ova deyah! It's da Brooklyn Newsies!" Captain said in a mocking tone.   
  
Everyone immediately stiffed up and tried to look, if not intimidating then at least not scared mindless. They walked on to the pier and started making their way down. Some of the boys whistled, earning dirty looks from Woodchuck. Others were topless from swimming, earning a sly eye from Giggles. Freckles took her traditional stance, back straight, chin up in the air and two steely eyes glaring down her nose. She walked strongly down the pier with her warriors at her back. No matter how much she'd like to deny it Freckles still had a childhood fear of the Brooklyn Beast.   
  
Most people have that one fear they know will haunt them to their graves, be it heights or dogs, that one fear, they know, they will never face or conquer. Freckles fear was the Beast. It would be a challenge, but she was determined to hold strong like a leader should and remember that no one should ever be able to read her emotions.   
  
They could now see the end of the pier and a group of newsies sittingin the distance.  
  
'He's down there. He probably doesn't remember a damn thing about me, but I do, I remember.'  
  
Her eyes glazed over the crowd looking for the face she had last see through nine-year-old frightened eyes. Ice filled her body as she purposfully drained her heart and mind of any emotion, her face was a cold blank canvas that would reveal nothing. Not even her eyes would give the slightest hint to her thoughts...she hoped.   
  
Freckles and her gang had reached the end of the dock and she was about to question the group of newsies in front of her when the eerie feeling of being watch descended upon her. She stiffened and she felt the small hair on the back of her neck and arms stand up straight. She reached out with all her sences as if to pin down the danger. She heard a small sound above her and her eyes were drawn to the wood crates that lined the edges of the pier. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up and found Mr. Colnon.   
  
For some reason, almost against her will, after her eyes met his, she immediately shifted them down to the water as if to compare the icy blues. When she looked back, a small smug look adonred his face and she realized her mistake.  
  
"Whatever. Even if he thinks your scared he can't possible know he's right and even if he does he can't possibly guess the extent of how scared you really are"  
  
A small comfort to say the least.   
  
Her eyes hardened after her mental pep talk "Hey Spot. You wrote?" Freckles held up a dog-eared message that had been written on the back of a Tibby's napkin.   
  
"Good Afternoon Freckles." Spot leaped down from his seat on top of the creates and landed just in front of Freckles "Glad ta see you in Brooklyn, wid an invitation dis time. Let's see if you can remember the difference." His eyes, which held a cold gleam in them suddenly, changed and shifted, as if examining and evaluating her as he would a potential purchase. "You've changed. What's it been? Six years?" he was pretended to try to recall, he did remember her, Freckles was now sure of it.  
  
"Not long enough." Her voice came out with a brave undertone that she was far from feeling in her bones. "Now quite the chatter and talk so I can get back in time for the evening edition," She felt Chucks take in a quick gasp of air at her statement and felt her send a mental signal to calm down.   
  
Spot tilted his head to the right and looked Freckles up and down in a way that made her feel invisible. She decided to return the favor. His wiry build did not hide a thin but muscled chest and slightly built arms. As she look further up she could find nothing that could be considered intimidating or over powering. She found that evidence when she reached his eyes. It took much of her will power not to shiver as she felt a chill go through her. They were blue-gray, deep, dark and powerful. Another shudder threatened to overtake her when those eyes moved and met her own. They shouted out power and status, demanding respect and drilling holes into those more inferior. Freckles tried to hold her own in the stare down but was forced to look away when he suddenly yelled at her.  
  
"WHAT DA HELL IS YOU'S DOIN IN BROOKLYN!" He wasn't angry; he was simply yelling for effect and, damn him, it worked. Freckles jump and broke eye contact.  
  
"What's it to ya?" She spared right back but not meeting his eyes. She was to busy mentally kicking herself.  
  
"Brooklyn is my territory and nobody sells here unless I say so," Her eyes swung back to his in surprise but he was unable to read her reaction. In fact he hadn't been able to gain a simple word of body language since their eyes had first met and he had a sinking suspicion that if hadn't yelled at her she would have given him hell in the stare down. Six years of running had laft a deep impression in the little nine-year-old he had briefly known. The only thing he could be positive of was that he had surprised her with his knowledge of her attempted sneekiness. He knew that she and her girls had been selling in Brooklyn for the past week. The only thing that escaped him was why she would even think she could make such a violation and still breathe.   
  
"Well then, its a good thing we're sellin' in South Brooklyn isn't it?" This girl had to much cheek for her own good and if she kept going off at the mouth she was going to learn what happened to the cheeks of mouthy girls.   
  
"South Brooklyn, North Brooklyn, any Brooklyn is still Brooklyn and I own it!" His eyes flashed in anger while hers stayed as they had started, cold and blank. But Spot could sence something underneth her surface. She was fighting really hard to hold something back and he suspected it would only take to right move to break her stoney expression.   
  
'Keep it up little girl, but I'm gonna be the one ta break ya'  
  
"Are you gonna say anythin' important in the next few minutes? 'Cause if not I gotta be goin-'"   
  
"-You're not going anywhere" Freckles had started to turn around but felt a yank on her should that returned her to her previous position and back to his angry stare "Now shut up, sit down, and stop tawkin back!" his tone said not to argue and Freckles wasn't inclined to do so.   
  
She slowly sat down, guided by his almost painful grip on her shoulders. He shot one deadly look at the Staten Island officers and they all promptly did the same, except for Captain.  
  
She decided to take extra long in her sitting preparations. She stretched, wiped some of the invisible dirt away from her future sitting space, then she stretched again and began to shake her legs out. After a few minutes, Freckles could tell that Spot was no longer amused so she turned around and gave Captain a glare. Only then did Captain sit down, fast enough to make a plopping sound. Freckles mentally thanked Captain for letting her give a show of control and took a deep breath and prayed to keep it.   
  
"Now, what made you think dat I was gonna let yous move right in unda my nose?" It looked like Spot expected an answer to his growled question but Freckles held her tongue. His glare became more intense at her silence and almost caused her to shrink back but she held still never letting her weakness show through in eyes.  
  
"Freckles you got two second ta answer before I split your head open! " her eyes widened slightly at the threat and she was quick to answer when he began to draw his hand back.  
  
"I thought you said ta shut up!" She yelped. From the look on his face that was the wrong answer and she instinctively knew he was two seconds from hitting her anyway  
  
It was his turn to take a deep calming breath "Don't get smart wid me" his hand were still fisted with anger "Now answer da fuckin' question!" His eyes practically glazed over with held back violence. She found herself fixated on them with an almost morbid fasination. She imagined herself having the ability to release that kind of passion through her eyes. She wondered if it would be a release or a burden to be able to feel so much.  
  
"Where else were we supposing ta go?" Spot barely managed to hear her soft answer but he understood. He knew what was going on in Staten Island. He had heard stories so vivid that he had, for the first time, asked his "boirds" to leave out some of the descriptive details. Death was not new to the newsie world, but girls dying were different and he wasn't sure how he felt about that yet.  
  
He took another deep breath.   
  
"Come 'ere," he motioned to Freckles. She got up and the officers started to follow but one look from Spot and they sat down, even Captain. He took Freckles by the arm and began to lead her away.  
  
"Freckles?" Giggles meek call reached Freckles ears as well as the question behind it.  
  
"Stay there. I'll be fine," She only wished she could convice herself of that fact. Spot lead her to the edge of the beach under the dock far away from newsie ears.  
  
"Okay," He began. "Let me give you's a little history lesson. First, you break into a world dats got no place for girls. Then, you recruit a whole army of girls ta muck up da whole newsie system. Finally, you wake up one morning and find out why being a newsie aint for girls" As he made a point he would count it off on his fingers, by the time he got the third point Freckles wanted to break each digit.  
  
"I'm sorry, could you maybe be a little more cryptic, I didn't get thoroughly confused the first time." Her sarcasm grated on his nerves and made him want to shake some sense into her.  
  
" Fine, in idiot terms. You and your little hellions over der, kicked Meaty Morales out a his turf"  
  
"It was a FAIR FIGHT- "   
  
"-WHATEVER! Ya did it and for some reason you thought that just because you move in and start working the territory, that it would earn you some respect" He had started to pace in front of her, reminding her of the few years she had spent in school and she supposed she was, in a weird sort of way, getting schooled right now  
  
"So what happens, you got what- two…three months of peace before the rest of Staten Island came beating down your door. Just what did ya think would happen Freckles? That the real newsies- the boy newsies, would just LET you move in. Nobody likes you Freckles, nobody even likes the idea of you. So all it takes is for Dallas Strain, the new Stanten Island leader, to ask a quick favor from any borough in New York and bingo," he snapped his fingers to emphasize his point "what do ya know, you got twelve dead girls in the bay." Spot's face was a mix of anger and fustration.  
  
Freckles would never know if it was dirtected at her or at the situation but she hadn't been able to look up since he mentioned her dead girls. The thought always made ice water flow through her veins. When she did finally look up he was standing right in front of her.  
  
"Now I'm gonna tell ya something for nothing," His eyes had taken out a deeper hue and his mouth had turned down with the graveness of the situation. " It's not gonna stop Freckles, not until you find your own watery home in da bay" She could tell he was holding something back, it made her sick to think that there was some detail so horrible that even he, couldn't delight in the telling. He hesitated once more before speaking,   
  
"Thing is, is won't be quick or predictable Freckles. Every girl every death, will be unique and- " he took a moment as if to question wether he should finish his sentence before continuing "...they'll save you, for last"   
  
Freckles repeated this to herself, a sickening silent mantra and tried valiently to keep her face emotion free, but Spot saw it. The quick flicker of pain that wavered in the depths of her green eyes, the small crack in her emotional wall, he knew she understood.   
  
Spot could see she desperately wanted to ask the question they were both thinking and he still didn't know how he wanted to answer. Freckles struggled desperately with herself, her heart vs. her mind. She didn't want to ask.  
  
'What is holding you back? I don't want him to see I'm weak. He knows your weak; you wouldn't have twelve dead girls if you were strong. I don't want his help. No, you only want his territory, like you ever had a chance, what did you really think to gain by coming here? I don't know. Yes, you do your just letting your pride get in the way. Pride is all I have. No, you have your life and pride is going to get you and everyone else killed…'  
  
Spot was startled when two fierce green eye flashed up to meet his own. Some deep feelings rested there but he didn't have the knowledge to read them but on some level he could feel their message.  
  
'She gonna ask me. She really found the nerve. She couldn't do it nine years ago but some how she's found the strength'  
  
A stifled silence rested between them for a few moments, each waiting, knowing what one of them would say.  
  
Freckles took a deep breath before proceeding " Spot…"  
  
"Yes," Ask me, Ask me,  
  
"I…" Can't do this, I can't do this  
  
"Go ahead," She's not gonna do it  
  
" I…I n-need help" Had she said it? Or did she just imagine the words leaving her mouth. From his expression she couldn't tell.   
  
Little did she know that he was sharing her exact thoughts. He quickly mentally shook himself before answering. "I know you do, and I'm gonna do what I can"  
  
Finally, a readable and genuine emotion took over her cold demeanor. Freckles was thoroughly and completely shocked.  
  
"WHAT!" She hadn't meant to yell but somehow the volume came flying out of her mouth " Sorry, I m-mean excuse me, but d-did I hear you right"   
  
'You did not just stutter, oh SHIT you did not just stutter.'  
  
"Look, it's simple" Spot shuffled away and put his hands forcefully in his pockets "I don't like girl newsies, but I don't like dead girls even more and if lettin' you's move in here is what I gotta do ta have a clean conscience, then I'll just have ta deal wid da" Spot looked over and saw her begin to open her mouth to say something.  
  
"Hey! Before you say anything there are gonna be a few rules," he warned. A million comments were flying threw Freckles's head at the moment so a good excuse not to talk was welcome.  
  
"For starters; you check in with me and give me updates on any problems or events everyday. Even if one of the girls has a slight cold, I wanna know," Again he was counting off the rules on his fingers, only this time, it didn't bother her so much.   
  
"Why, Spot, I didn't know ya cared," He actually almost grinned at her joke before going very serious. He walked back over to her and put one hand on her shoulder and another lifted her chin so she was looking him in the eye. Immediately Freckles "TOO CLOSE" alarms were going off.  
  
"I assure you it's nothing personal" Freckles eyes widen and for a brief moment she was convinced he had read her mind. "But I'm not gonna have another dozen of dead girls on Brooklyn's hands or more importantly, my hands. Dat is what will happen if you are not under my protection." His face bore down on her's making sure she understood the gravity of the situation. Freckles couldn't help but notice he has said "my" protection and not "Brooklyn's"  
  
"Spot, we can take good care of ourselves. I know there are plenty examples to the contrary but I have tried" She turned her head to the side to break his grip but his other hand remained on her shoulder. " I guess I simply never knew newsies were such efficient killers, I mean, I know you've probably heard about it from all your spies, but the way some of the killings were done…I don't know, you'd think it was a professional hit or something" She felt the emotion rise in her throat or it might have been vomit, she wasn't sure. She turned her back on Spot quickly because she couldn't keep the feeling off her face.  
  
"Anyway, I don't know what else we can do. We go out in pairs, only girls who have been a newsie for two years can go out at night to sell the evening edition, and we all know how to fight, but if you…" She came that close to asking him for suggestions. Shelter was one thing, protection was another, but she'd refuse to ask him for ideas. There were something's her pride could not take and besides, that was Chucks job  
  
"Well, we'll see if we can come up with anything else" Her heart fluttered over the use of the words "we" One of her biggest fears in coming here would be that he would name himself lord and master over her girls and that would be the end of it and of her. With that one word, he had let her know that she was still valued enough to be involved.   
  
"I don't want any of da girls leaving Brooklyn without you knowing and then reporting ta me."   
  
'Maybe you shouldn't have dismissed the lord and master concept so quickly'  
  
"Second, I don't want any of da girls getting into any...um...n-non respectable   
  
s-situations,"   
  
'Did I just stutter?'  
  
Freckles barely managed to keep from smiling and had to bite the inside of her cheek. The great Brooklyn leader, at a lost for words around this sensitive subject.  
  
"Got it. No nookie in da warehouse," A small giggle escaped Freckles when two red spots appeared on Spot's cheek.   
  
"I mean it Freckles. It won't do Brooklyn's reputation no good if we've got a bunch a pregnant newsies. It would be kinda hard ta hide a stomach in boys clothing. Which brings me to number three"   
  
'Uhg! Again with the counting on your fingers!'   
  
"I want all your girls in boys clothing, " Freckles eyes narrowed. After so many years at the factory she felt more comfortable in boys clothing but the thought of forcing them on her girls was distasteful.  
  
"I doesn't work" Her face had fallen into a strange grimace, "trust me, somethings you just can't hide" Spot wasn't sure what she was talking about but he didn't like the look on her face.  
  
"I'm mean full boy costume. Wrap a pillow case around your waists ta even out you're…um…" She gave him a funny look   
  
"boo…"   
  
One of her eyebrows raised with a warning  
  
"ti…"   
  
There went the other one  
  
"Ah hell! Your CHEST, TA EVEN OUT YOUR CHEST!" If they had turned around at that moment they would have seen the funny looks they got from a few dock works near by, not to mention a few newsies with good hearing.  
  
Spot face was fully red now and he had one hand up rubbing the back of his neck " Jesus! Anyway, wear an extra shirt ta hide da c-curves, and pull your hair up in ta hats and cut it so there's not an obvious ponytail bump."  
  
"I'll have to think on a few of these things Spot" No need for him to know she desperately need Chucks for this kind of stuff " But, if agreeable we shouldn't have a problem"   
  
"Damn right we won't have a problem because you'll follow all da rules if ya knows what's good fer ya" Spot said and stood up. Freckles took that as a signal their meeting was over but she wasn't ready for it to be.  
  
"Wait!" Spot turned back to her, this time it was his eyebrow that was raised. " I hate ta ask dis- wait, no I don't, what's in it for you?" She could see a bit of shock register on his face but she could tell if it was faked or not. "Don't get me wrong I appreciate everything that your offering here but so far all I see is my girls with a big fat 'Protected by Brooklyn' sign on their backs. So I ask again, what's in it for you" His eyes had narrowed dangerously and were fixed on her like he would love nothing more than to slap the shit out of her, but Freckles didn't back down. There was no such thing as a free lunch.  
  
Spot leaned back in his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. He took a deep breath before he spoke "Maybe I'm just an upstanding gentelman" His eyes narrowed once more after she let out a snort of disbelief. "Hmmm...or maybe, you do have something I want" Once again thoes eye were roaming up and down as if trying to find some hidden sercret "What would you be willing to give me?" There was a devilish gleem in his grin that told Freckles he was having evil thoughts. Then it hit her, her wasn't grinning at her, he was leering at her.   
  
"I have nothing offer-" Spot began to close the distance between them.  
  
"Oh well that is simply a matter of opinion" Freckles felt her breath catch in her throat before breathing stopped being an option all together   
  
"If you think for one minute that- "  
  
"-Tell me." His eyes were now fixated on hers, "Tell me what I'm thinking. Lets see how much luck you have with it"   
  
He was laughing at her. He had to be and if he wasn't, then Freckles was an inch away from making sure he never laughed again.  
  
" If you think that I or any of my girls are going to...well….have…you know, with-"   
  
"-No, I don't know, please..." Again he wore that mysterious grin that would not tell her if he was serious or not and his voice had deepened to a vibrating pitch, "tell me"  
  
"SEX!" Freckles toleration levels had reached their breaking point "TO HAVE SEX! THAT I'M GOING TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU FOR PROTECTION!" Once again dock workers and newsies alike were all lifting their ears with curiosity toward this conversation.   
  
"Weeellll, what an…interesting idea that is" He slowly began to make his way over to her. She became focused on his feet as they moved, one in front of the other, bringing him closer to her and for some reason, that she would never be able to explain to herself, she stood still.   
  
" I wonder, Ms. McLean if you would be worth such a high price," Only a few presious feet remain between the two leaders. She didn't know how much longer she could play this game without killing something.  
  
Freckles mouth and hands immediately became active in protest "I never said-"  
  
" -I wonder…Ms. McLean," the distance bewtween them suddenlty became mere inches, "if all the fun would lye, in the finding out" He suddenly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned into her hair. Freckles was confused for all of two seconds before she realized what he was doing,  
  
He was smelling her.  
  
For a moment she could not decide if it was bile or something else entirely different that began to rise in her throat. For a truly wild moment she was tempted to do the same, to discover his personal scent. He pulled back and the reality of the situation dawned on her.  
  
Once more his eyes traveled down the length of her only this time they held a bored bland expression  
  
"Perhaps...not"   
  
If she didn't truly hate him before the look on his face would be enough for her to carry a grudge through three life times. He looked her over once more as if to confirm it to himself that she was, in fact, simply mediocre.   
  
"The offer never was and never will be on the table Conlon, I wouldn't want to make your right hand jealous" Inside she was burning with anger but outside her cool and collected mask had slide firmly back into place.  
  
After her last comment Spot seemed more than ready to move on. What was meant to be a simple lesson in the power of emotional expression and a vain attempt to get that blank look off her face had backfired. The simple lesson turned out to be one for him, not to get intimatly close without the means to satisfy or hide any unexpected side affects.  
  
"It's very simple. You and your girls get the protection of Brooklyn and the south Brooklyn territory to sell your paps. In return, I want your house fees. That's the other reason why I want you reporting to me, everyday what you collect from your girls you will then turn over to me." Spot's face had gone hard and serious, Freckles knew that playtime was over and it was time for business.  
  
"Half. We have half the territory we use to in Staten Island that means less income"   
  
"90/10 More people live in South Brooklyn then on the Staten Island shore and you got more traffic from the bridge. More traffic, more people, more money"   
  
"60/40 The housing in Brooklyn aint exactly what were use to and we need a lot of supplies ta make it livable, dat all costs money"  
  
"75/25 Half the stuff you need we get for free from the Brooklyn Lodging house. Whatever you need you'll get a supply of per month."  
  
Freckles careful considered this final offer and decided it wasn't worth it to fight for 70/30.  
  
"Done" She spit in her had and extended it to Spot  
  
"Done" He repeat the action and they shook on it.  
  
Freckles didn't know if she had gotten the better deal or not, but she could worry about that tomorrow. Actually Chucks could worry about that, she lives for this kind of stuff and would probably be mad that she wasn't allowed to be there for the negosiation. Tonight at least Freckles knew that they could sleep in doors, in a bed, and not worry about seeing another one of her girls wake up in the water. 


	3. In the beggining

THE GIRLS WAY or THE HARD WAY   
  
By. Freckles McLean: Freckles0002hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: They're not mine I swear! If you see a name and don't recognize it from the movie then it came out of my little head.  
  
Author's Note: To borrow inspiration from one of the greatest minds of our time I only have one thing to say... Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming  
  
And now for something completely different   
  
It was midnight, the time of change and magic, the hour of renewal and the time of nightmares. If the owl was to be believed, night was the only intelligent time to attempt deep thought. During the day the sun, with its omnipotent power, is a constant drain on the body's energy. Not an appropriate time at all to try and think. But night, with its natural calmness and almost gentle relaxation has been gravely misjudged as a time of rest and should be re-categorized as the time to let the mind fly.  
  
Perhaps that is why Freckles found herself awake at the witching hour. Her brain refused to release the joys and stresses of the day though her body called for the nourishment of sleep. Freckles was trying to enjoy the feel of her bed for the last time. The majority of the girls were already set up and resting at the new headquarters in Brooklyn but Freckles had chosen to remain on the Island for this last night.   
  
Staten Island with all it's trials and tribulations, had been her home and though it had not been a warm and loving one, it held the safety of familiarity. Freckles didn't like running away, which was what this move to Brooklyn was no matter how Chuck's tried to sell her on "self preservation". A path run by a coward cannot be called any other name though it be run by a brave man.  
  
Or woman  
  
Freckles thoughts began to take form as the awesomeness of the day began to wash over her. She had feared Spot Conlon for so long, facing him almost seemed like a bad dream instead of a reality. If she tried hard she could almost convince herself the meeting had not really happened.  
  
'He remembers me; I can feel it in my gut. But what exactly does he remember'  
  
For Spot, the past might be only a fleeting memory but for Freckles it was a nightmare she had lived with for years. Her own personal boogieman.  
  
'Who smelled me. I wonder what the boogieman of Brooklyn would have smelled like?'  
  
The shocking suggestions her mind came up with quickly made her change her mental conversation to a less grin inducing subject.   
  
'Safe. Your girls are in a safe, warm, well warm enough, house tonight and they are all going to wake up alive. '   
  
The thought was almost relieving enough to put Freckles to sleep. It was strange to think back to just last week when she had made the decision to try her chances with Brooklyn and move in. A desperate act, in every definition of the phrase, to try and take on Spot Conlon himself. Bur Freckles had been desperate.  
  
It had all started out so well, as most good intentioned things in life usually do. It began with the leader of the Staten Island newies taking in a little waif of a girl and training her to be a newsie. Freckles had been the first girl newsie anyone had ever heard of and all the boys had protested at the thought of the profession going co-ed.   
  
When word got out about what the leader, Rocks Drougue, had done, no one really had the nerve to tell Rock's what they thought but that didn't stop them from letting Freckles know. No words were necessary and very few were often said. The only sound would be a sharp grunt from Freckles as their fists laid into her. She learned quickly that traveling off the Island was not an option for her. On the Island she was safe, Rock's stood up for her, trained her, and protected her. She had asked him why once and all he had said, was that she reminded him of someone. The look on his face was enough for Freckles never to ask again.   
  
Rocks was really her only companion. In a strange way they suited each other. They were both cold and didn't like talking or people who spoke, so a comfortable silence was all they needed and for a short time, things were looking up.  
  
Famous last words.  
  
A power shift came to Staten Island. Rocks Drougue, the newsie legend, that had works the streets of New York long before the Kelly's and Spot's of the world had sold their first paper, was retiring.   
  
Rocks let her know a week in advance that he was stepping down and retiring. She knew what that meant and the look in his eyes only confirmed her gut feeling. Freckles would no longer be safe in Staten Island.   
  
She left the day before Rocks did. Her first thought was to try and get out of the city all together. To go to Jersey or even Boston but something held her back. Cowardice or instinct, she didn't know but something told her to stay, not give up her home, not to run.   
  
She tried the non-newsie life for a little while and got a job in a factory, which she hated. They forced her to cut her hair as short as her chin and ware tight boys clothing for fear that a dress would get caught in the machines. The bonus that came out of this was that she honestly looked like a boy and could walk the streets without fear of a newsie ambush.  
  
This lasted until puberty. Suddenly, the tight boys clothes were no longer serving as a hindrance to public attention. She had a choice of being the curvy girl in tight men's clothes, or the strange boy in a woman's dress, there was no way to hide. The problem finally escaladed to a pitch when she caught the attention of her boss.   
  
After and encounter which left her boss unable to bend over for a week, she was fired due to "cut backs". Freckles resorted to what every street kid must do at some point in their lives. She slept on the streets and went to bed; otherwise know as a dirt alley, hungry almost every night. When winter hit she was ready to become a statistic, one that rich people could shake their heads over and then attend some random charity ball. Another dead run away the bulls could be happy to have off their hands.   
  
Almost against her will, she survived. After that winter, as almost a testament to her perseverance, thing got a little better. Freckles could wonder around the streets now, her hair grown out long enough that she could ware a dress with out getting funny looks. So she stole when she could, begged if she saw a rich elderly lady and got by as best she could, but one day all that changed.  
  
A distant clock somewhere in the distance chimed loudly. Freckles didn't know if the single chime stood for 12:30 or 1:00 but it did nothing to slow down her minds ride on memory lane.  
  
She could never help but smile as she thought back to the day when she had met Chuck's. Freckles wasn't a spiritual person but she should couldn't help but sense that there was a force that day guiding the two of them together.  
  
'Ahhh...Here I am, minding my own business. Which usually means something horrible is about to happen'  
  
Just as she finished that though, what felt like a battering ram, decided to collide with the side of her body. At first the only thing she could think of was the incredibility of how fast the ground was rushing up to meet her face. After a rather sharp introduction to the cement, the only thought she could process was the wild pondering of where exactly was it that all your breath went when it left your body so fast.   
  
Freckles tumbled around with her new battering ram a bit more before she was finally able to get her head together and distinguish her limbs from that of the ram's. As she tried to sit up she noticed something rather important, she and the ram were surrounded by a group of boys. Freckles felt her gut clinch and her tongue swell in her mouth with fear.  
  
'They found me, oh god, the finally found me!'  
  
Freckles braced herself for the first blow she knew would soon come but as she paused in the moments before she was sure her life would end she noticed that not one of the boy's in the group was looking at her. Not that she was a glutton for their attention at this particular moment but they were saving their glares for the groaning pile of clothes next to her that she had given the nickname Ram.   
  
As her lovely battering ram turned itself over Freckles got a glimpse of a terrified face, a terrified female face, which, gave her pause for a moment. In her minds eye she could imagine a frighteningly similar image with herself as the surrounded prey. Would that be the look on her face when the Staten Island boys finally caught up with her. The glassy tone to her eyes and the pink flush of panic on her cheeks.   
  
Her morbid imagination was interrupted when two of the boys roughly pulled girl to her feet turned her around and held her arms. The tallest boy, who seemed to be their leader, approached the captured girl, he had mud all over his face but that didn't hide a murderous glint in his eyes.  
  
"It wasn't very nice ta throw mud at me now was is Woodchuck?" He hadn't even finished his rhetorical question before throwing a punch that caught her in the stomach. Freckles saw the ram's face contort with pain before she doubled over.   
  
His technique needs serious work. Any idiot knew not ta throw a punch with your thumb tucked inside your fist, your likely ta break your own finger.  
  
Freckles didn't know where the urge came from or why she felt like standing up for this girl, but something called out to her. Some might say Freckles felt sorry for her but it was most likely the principle that nobody deserved to get their ass kicked by a guy who couldn't even throw a proper punch. Street kids didn't have rules but they held fast to their principles.  
  
"Hey! Leave her alone!"   
  
Was that her voice sounding all authoritive and stuff? Her brief moment of pride slowly slipped away as she noticed that she suddenly had the whole groups attention. She would never know that it was more surprise than anything that caused her to gain the gangs sole attention. They were all stupefied at the fact that they had almost followed her order as if she was their leader. Something in her tone almost made them do it. The true leader was the first to shake himself free of the surprise.  
  
"And what are you gonna do about it, little girl?"   
  
He couldn't help but notice her stance. She stood as if there was a straight board attached to her back and kept her chin held so high she literally was looking down her nose at him and his gang. The way she had spoken to them shook him the most, without actually looking at her you would have thought it was the Queen of New York barking orders at you, in a deep New York accent no less.   
  
"Why don't you come ova here and find out?" His stomach fluttered at her threat. She was a small thing, obviously had trouble finding three squares a day, and most importantly she was a GIRL, but he couldn't deny it, his stomach had fluttered with nerves.   
  
Freckles saw his eyes narrow at her words. The murderous look he had been sharing with Woodchuck was now bestowed upon her. This conversation was most definitely about to become a confrontation.   
  
He walked over slowly and deliberately, stopping only three inches away." I don't see any thing happening," he gave her a patronizing look.  
  
Freckles returned it. "Wait"   
  
Her left knee suddenly lifted and connected squarely between his legs, catching him so hard that it lifted him an inch off the ground before dropping him. Freckles had no time to enjoy watching him crumple up in pain. His boys immediately attacked, Freckles didn't need to know the number to figure she was about to get her ass kicked and reshaped. She had been outnumbering 3 to 1 before and the outcome had always been the same.   
  
With their leader down for the count, the gang boys didn't quite know what to do after completely knocking the stuffing out of her, so they simply picked up their leader and walked off. Freckles knew he would be furious when he found out that she had been left alive and his other intended victim not touched at all.  
  
The girl, Woodchuck if she remembered right, ran over to help her sit up. The worst part of getting beat up is the first time you sit up afterward. The fear of a broken rib, the pain of bruised muscles and the guaranteed sore butt, always made the process an exciting one.   
  
"Wow, you took that really well. Thanks," Freckles flinched at Woodchucks voice. Was her voice always that squeaky or was this just Freckles lucky day.   
  
"No problem. I've gotten ten times worse from boys who actually know how to fight. Why were they chasin' ya?" Freckles tried to subtlety wiped some blood from her lip but she still saw Woodchuck grimace.  
  
"Some of Rova's boys were not acting in a gentlemanly fashion towards me so I gave them what dey deserved," the girl blushed at her own stupidity. She usually knew better than to start shit with Rover but this one time she had final let her emotions dictate her actions.  
  
"Is Rova da guy who is now unable to have children?" Freckles couldn't help but released a proud chuckle over her work.  
  
"Yeah. He's da leader. There're just a bunch of idiot guys who think there're special 'cause they claimed a cornah ta call their own," the girl informed.  
  
"There're a cornah gang!?" Freckles release a snort of laughter and shook her head "I shoulda saved my energy. So, what's your name Kid?"   
  
"Woodchuck...but my real names Alison,"   
  
"Whoa!" Freckles eye widened at that admission "word to da wise; neva tell anyone your real name, my names Freckles, as far as any one knows anyway," Unthinkingly Freckles, in the newsie fashion, raised her hand, spat in it, and extended it to Woodchuck, who gave it a strange look before doing the same.  
  
From then on they were always together but a partnership was never officially established. Woodchuck simply invited Freckles back to her house, which was the only solid room left in a burnt down apartment building, high class living for a street kid, and Freckles never left. The strange thing about this duo was that, unlike most street kids who partner up, they shared. A person living alone on the streets was a loner, two, a partnership and three, a gang. The gang has to share their goods as a community while a partnership was usually based on the concept that there was safety in numbers and involved no sharing. Freckles and Woodchuck, who had been re-nicknamed Chucks, survived together, sharing whatever loot they got. Chucks was an expert pickpocket and Freckles was as sly as a ghost when it came to swiping from food carts.   
  
Slowly but surely they became a gang. They would run into other girls who were streets kids and either soak them or join together. The gang was getting larger everyday and with that a few problems arose. A large gang of girls or guys will always draw attention to itself and for some reason; outlaw street girls gone wild was a media frenzy. All the papers loved having stories about the female youth becoming delinquents and soon enough all the rich folks in the area were worried about being murdered in their beds by female ruffians.   
  
Freckles, Chucks and the gang had to go legit fast, at the same time they were quickly out growing their home. Freckles easily had the perfect solution. She began to teach the girls everything that Rocks had taught her, from hawking the headlines to sympathy sales. No more street kid techniques, they were serious now and were prepared to do serious damage and Freckles knew exactly who she wanted their first target to be.   
  
In the past there had been many wars and many territories had been gained through hostile takeovers but never in the history of the newsie world had their been a female newsie territory. Freckles, was ready to take the first by any means necessary.  
  
One big war and one major victory had been all it took. Freckles and her gang including her five main officers had made history. They controlled all of the North East shore of Staten Island. They were legendary, they were notorious and for what seemed like a short time, they were happy.   
  
'Hmmmm, here I am, minding my own business, something terrible is gonna happen' 


End file.
